When my twin brother and I were turning 10, we were convinced that we would die soon.
We thought you couldn’t live past age 10.
I remember our 5th birthday. We looked at each other, knowing, with a feeling we shouldn’t have felt at that age.
We silently commiserated that we were old. We were living on borrowed time.
I remember the night before. Even though there was a serious boundary between my space and his, we slept together. Held on to each other for dear life.
I don’t know why we didn’t tell anyone but we didn’t.
We slept in the same bed that night, holding each other.
We thought something major would happen.
It didn’t.
I value these memories I have with my twin. Painful as they are.
We came into this world together, but I’m left behind.
No one but a twin could understand what that means.
No one loved me more than he did.
I’ve never loved anyone more than him.
I hate that I lost him.
I can’t stop thinking what we would’ve been had he lived.
I think he would’ve been such a support with our dad when he died.
He could’ve been a support for our beloved mom.
He could’ve been a support for me supporting our mom.
If you have a sibling, hold them close.
No one knows what you’re going through more then them.